Morning in Paris
by Frakkinghack
Summary: Georg wakes up on his first morning as Maria's husband.


**A/N: This is my first TSOM fic. Sorry its got zero plot, but I wanted to write something and a little one shot like this is relatively quick and painless. I hope you like it.**

 **I own nothing. I borrow them for playtime, then send them home.**

Georg von Trapp blinked against a shaft of early morning sun streaming through the large glass doors that led to the balcony. He moved his head around on the pillow trying to evade its glare, attempting to salvage the sleep into which he had only too recently drifted, but to no avail. He woke enough to realize that all he need do was roll over and hopefully sleep would take him again.

Still only half awake he turned and found himself faced with the unfamiliar yet welcome sight of his new bride. A sleepy smile crossed his face, and he scooted even further away from the sun's warmth and towards hers. Her back was to him and he slid forward until his naked body came ever so gently into contact with hers.

Maria shifted momentarily away and then relaxed back into Georg's comforting bulk, and he wondered at the ease with which they had slipped into these most intimate of moments. Apart from a few whispered anxieties the first time she had touched him as her husband, their love making seemed to have come to her as effortlessly as singing. She had a natural talent for it, pursuing it with the same innate passion and innocence that imbued her every endeavor.

She had not a coy bone in her body. The pure curiosity and joy she had expressed the night before, as she marveled not only at the things he made her feel but at the responses she coaxed from his own flesh made him fall in love with her a million times over again.

She was divinity. She was holy in his eyes and each time they took one another in their arms he marveled that God had found him worthy of this woman, who he knew must truly be one of his greatest creations.

Georg turned his head in towards the nape of her neck, inhaling slowly the slightly sweet but musky sent of her warm, sleeping body. His next breath ghosted over the skin of her neck and the light groan of contentment that came from low in her throat sent a sliver of renewed desire through his body.

He shifted again and his arm came to rest on her waist. He lightly pulled her back so that her hips were closer to his and his arm could drape all the way around her waist. He wrapped her up tightly and gave her a quick squeeze, his thumb finding and stroking her arm once before he relaxed again.

Georg closed his eyes and tried to will himself back to sleep, but Maria, her soft curves pressed against him, was proving an utter distraction. The line of her neck was elegant and yet strong, the dip of her waist perfectly cradled in the bend of his elbow, the soft skin of her arm had fairly branded his thumb, which wanted nothing more than to learn every part of her all over again.

He let out a heavy sigh as he tried to tame his increasing lustful thoughts, intent on letting the woman in his arms get some much deserved rest. As willing a participant as she had been, between the children the wedding and their travel to Paris neither of them had had much true rest in the last months. He reminded himself they had six whole weeks, and more if they liked, her in Paris; plenty of time to indulge in all of the splendor of the city and each other.

He settled once again behind her, intent on sleep until she suddenly shivered against him, her hips tantalizing him as memories of the way they moved together just hours ago flooded his mind, and he felt his blood begin to surge in his groin.

The scent of her wafted up to his nose again and he struggled against the desire to simply bury his face in her hair and breathe deep. His thumb moved against her again, just a soft stroke along her belly, a quick touch to satisfy his growing desire to have her once again. She didn't move, so he did it again.

His mind and body clashed, the former wanting to hold her and protect her from the world as she peacefully slumbered in his arms. But his body wanted her, was preparing for her, even though he had no intention of allowing it to happen.

Maria felt the light caress of his thumb and smiled. There was something elemental about him, something that made her respond to him, that made her want things with him that two months ago ssh would have called sinful but now could only think of a wholly and deliciously right.

His thumb moved in slow passes just under her breast and she ached for it to move higher, would have willed it so were that possible. She wasn't quite comfortable enough to ask for him to make love to her and as he seemed content to just hold her she fought her own desire.

She breathed deep, her expanding abdomen forcing her hips slightly back towards his and she swore that for a fleeting moment she felt him begin to stir.

That thought alone, and his hand on her, thumb now moving in lazy circles, prompted another shiver and a low moan. He stilled and she took the opportunity to place her hand over his and and let her own fingers slide against his swarthy skin, warm as if he had just come in from the sun.

She smiled to herself when his touch became more sure, his hand creeping forward, guided or at least encouraged by her own. His breathing remained steady, but this time she was sure she felt him react to even these simple touches.

She was so sleepy, but everything felt so good, the mattress, the sheets, his warmth, his touch. She just let herself relax and enjoy the rush of warmth that was enveloping her body once more.

Georg moved slowly, not wanting to break whatever spell it was that was guiding this moment. He let his thumb find the swell of the underside of her breast and worked slowly up until he felt the peak of her nipple. She slid her fingers lightly over his forearm, encouraging him in his gentle exploration.

He quit trying to hide his body's reaction, ever more confident in this sweetly erotic moment in which they found themselves. He pressed against her bottom, letting her feel what she was doing to him as he cupped her breast fully in his hand. She let out a small hum of pleasure each time he found her nipple, pinching it lightly and then soothing it with gentle strokes.

Georg dipped his head and brushed his lips across the elegant line of her neck, which she craned to give him a larger canvas on which to trace slow circles and random lines as he continued his other attentions to her body. He slipped his other arm under her head and she placed a delicate kiss to the inside of his elbow before finding his fingers with hers and lacing them together.

Maria felt like she could fall asleep like this, wondered if maybe she was asleep and this was all just a dream. The way he touched her, the quiet acceptance of this thing that was happening between them felt so surreal. They hadn't kissed, they hadn't spoken, but they moved together as if on instinct.

She slid her free hand up his arm, moving the covers down to their hips as she reached back to put a hand on his hip, exploring the shape of his hip and butt, of his powerfully muscled thigh. He moved his hips in a small rolling motion against her now and she made to turn towards him, but he stilled her and pulled her more tightly to his chest.

Georg shut his eyes and whimpered against the rush of sensation as Maria worked her hand between their bodies and cupped him against his belly, and he abandoned her breast and neck momentarily to push the covers the rest of the way off of their bodies.

Her legs never disappointed, but to see them completely bare against the length of his, to see her hips nestled in his lap and to feel the growing heat of her center so near his own desire inflamed him in ways he hadn't been since his youth. Her skin was pale and smooth, and the darker color of his own hand contrasted with it as he caressed first her thigh and then the round fullness of her bottom.

She bent her knees up towards her chest and his breath hitched. They hadn't spoken a word since they'd woken up, had engaged in silent invitations and tacit agreements to move on to the most intimate of acts. He wanted to be sure, not that he saw any way he could be misunderstanding this.

"Maria," he sighed at the first light brush of his fingers against her sex.

"Yes," she whispered softly in reply, the rasp of desperation all the encouragement he needed to allow himself to run the length of her sex with two fingers, her flesh already swollen and slick with desire. He dragged his fingers forward to graze against her most sensitive spot. She closed her eyes tight and buried her head in the crook of his arm, rolling her hips much as he had, telling him she was ready.

She tried to turn once more in his arms but he stilled her with a gentle, "No."

"Georg?" she started to ask, but he placed his lips to her ear and stopped her with small shushing noises. Then she felt him shift his hips and he was there, the solid silken warmth of him no longer trapped between them, but gently nearing her center from behind. Her muscles clenched in anticipation and she marveled that though she didn't fully understand what was about to happen that she trusted Georg implicitly and would willing give herself over to him and the pleasure she knew he would being her.

He thrust lazily against her, running his length through the silken moisture he'd coaxed from her. Each stroke caused her to shudder and moan both from the simple stimulation of his length and his fingers and from torture of having him so close to where she desperately wanted him.

Georg gently teased his wife, wanting to make sure that she would be ready for him and giving himself a few more moments to enjoy the feeling and sounds of her pleasure. They were a symphony only he would ever be fortunate enough to hear and he wanted to revel in it for a moment before he was inside of her he would have a hard time focusing on anything at all but her tight, wet heat.

He gave a few more thrusts through her swollen folds and then shortened his stroke and slipped inside with groan that was matched in intensity by his lover, the sounds of their pleasure mixing like sweet music. He pulled back and entered her again.

In this position, though he wasn't seated very deep, she was gloriously tight and he was already fighting for control, keeping his strokes as long and slow as he could. Her little moans meshed with his, and he wrapped her in his arms, holding her to him, his forehead falling between her shoulder blades as he moved within her.

He held her like that for a few moments, enjoying the connection of his body to hers from head to hips. His heart pounded in his chest, but his movements stayed gentle and slow. He thought he could make love to her forever, and he sent up silent prayer to God that he could.

She was exquisite, and his heart clenched with the boundless emotion that underlay the physical expression of their love. He pressed her to him and kissed her shoulder before letting his hand slip down her belly and over her hip.

Georg guided her top leg up over his hip, giving him better access for both of his tasks. His strokes got deeper and his hand slipped back between her thighs, giving her the twin pleasure that in that moment she knew was as close as she would ever get to heaven on Earth.

She thought she could laze in this feeling forever, his pace slow enough to please but gentle enough that she thought she could stay in this blissful state of semi-conscious pleasure forever. Her world had narrowed to this bed and to the man behind her, his gentle ministrations and the overwhelming sense of love and peace she felt in his arms.

He never broke tempo, just made love to her in long and slow strokes, coaxed her body along until she was humming in time with him. Then suddenly, with just the right stroke of a finger, she was soaring, the gentle buzz turning into a gathering storm, pleasure radiating out from his touch, each stroke sending it farther and wider into her body.

Georg heard the change in her breathing, the slightly strangled edge in her gasps. He was taking her there, and he wanted to be there with her, knew he would be; it was only his focus on her pleasure that was keeping him in check. Now that he felt her body beginning to tremble, he let himself focus on the tight, hot squeeze of her around him, keeping his rhythm steady even as his muscles began to shake from pleasure and anticipation.

She gripped the arm still holding her shoulders to him and her breathing came in quick pleasure soaked gasps, the sound of which was enough to do him in. He made his own grunting noises, trying to hang on as he continued the maddeningly slow pace.

He wanted to keep her there, on the edge of ecstasy, hovering in the space between pleasure and pain, until the only release from sweet torture is to tumble over into the abyss.

His caress finally broke her and he felt her fall over the edge, the pure beauty of it causing him to jerk against her as his own pleasure washed over him in powerful waves, his movements finally stilling as he felt the final pulsing throbs of his flesh seated in hers. He didn't move, enjoying the moist heat of her around his waning erection.

Maria loosened her grip on his arm and sighed as Georg slipped from inside her. She closed her eyes and smiled, satisfied when he grabbed the sheet and pulled it back up over their cooling bodies.

Georg smiled against her hair and he felt her giggle in his arms. She turned her face to his and he looked into her eyes for the first time since waking. He kissed her softly. "Good morning, my love."


End file.
